<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Chase Sequence by Sophisticated_Adult</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665998">Chase Sequence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult'>Sophisticated_Adult</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! GX</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crossover, I am fully on my bullshit for this one, M/M, Robots, and will not apologise, but they're robots, update: now going full domestic fluff, who's going to stop me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:13:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophisticated_Adult/pseuds/Sophisticated_Adult</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thunder is a neutral mech who wants nothing to do with the war; Red is a recruiter with more patience than you might think.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Manjoume Jun | Chazz Princeton/Yuuki Juudai | Jaden Yuki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*mashes two fandoms together* now kiss</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Heeeyyy, Thunder! Long time no see!”</p><p>The big black mech groaned as Red slipped into the booth, grinning and brandishing two cubes of medium-grade energon as a peace offering. Thunder scowled, pulling the half-finished cube he already had closer to himself like he thought Red might try to mess with it. Please, Red was many things, including 'annoyingly persistent' like Thunder had said one time, but he wasn't that much of a complete aft-head.</p><p>“How do you keep <i>finding</i> me?” Thunder glared, but just as Red opened his mouth, his legs connected with <i>something</i> under the table, and a chorus of high-pitched outrage erupted from underneath:</p><p>“Hey, watch it!”</p><p>“Yeah, don't mess with us!”</p><p>“We got <i>this</i> guy on our side now!”</p><p>“Huh?” Red leaned down to peer under the table while Thunder smacked his pretty faceplate with one hand. Three tiny mechs - <i>probably</i> they were mechs? – bristled up at him, halfway through some kind of game involving stolen coasters from the bar tables.</p><p>“Wow.” Red stared - the yellow one's optics were mounted on <i>stalks</i>, what the actual fuck? - “This is new.”</p><p>“Just shut up,” Thunder muttered, embarrassed, and took a swig of energon to try and pretend that he wasn't.</p><p>“You made friends!” Red said in delight, hardly able to contain his glee. Thunder had been a loner for as long as Red had known him, probably longer; this was a big development. </p><p>Especially given how much of a mismatch he was with the group of glaring minis. They were lumpy and misshapen, as equally difficult to tell what they were actually supposed to be as the refined Towers mech that had apparently taken them under his hypothetical wing. “I wanna know the whole story,” Red declared, taking a gulp of his own drink. “How did <i>this</i> happen?”</p><p>“There's not much to say.” Thunder looked away, hunched in on himself. He was big, and had the bulk to match, but he never carried himself as though he did. “I got saddled with these idiots, and now I can't get rid of them.”</p><p>“Boss saved us!” The yellow one chirped proudly. </p><p>“Yeah!” The green one interjected, “he's the best!”</p><p>“So don't mess with us, or he'll fry ya!” The black one said, accompanied by nods and ridiculous posing from the other two.</p><p>“Wow, Thunder, that's pretty incredible.”</p><p>“Incredibly annoying.” This time Thunder did turn to glare at him, his odd dark optics set against white faceplates always making an impression on Red, who was a simple speedster who'd come online out of a batch of nearly identical mechs not too long after Thunder had been forged, he'd eventually worked out. “Like <i>you</i>. Here to try to get me to sign up?”</p><p>“Only if you want to,” Red said innocently. Neutral planets that accepted Cybertronians were becoming rarer, Thunder's movements easier to track by sheer lack of options, in addition to Red's ability to think almost in tune with him, sometimes. </p><p>“Hmph. Just leave me alone. Aren't you wasting a colossal amount of time chasing after me like this? Isn't your Prime expecting results?”</p><p>“Aww, I'm flattered, Thunder!” Red couldn't help but giggle at the thought: him reporting to <i>Prime</i>? Probably he didn't even know Red existed.</p><p>But the Autobots knew Thunder existed, knew he was a valuable asset to whatever side he might join, with his unique outlier ability to generate and control lightning with no damage to his own frame. He could change the tide of battles by himself.</p><p>Red, on the other hand, wasn't important. He wasn't anyone. But he was bright, and cheerful, and people liked him easily enough, and he made a good recruiter. He'd been taken aside one day and given a new mission, one they could afford a mech like him wasting a <i>colossal amount of time</i> on, provided it showed results.</p><p>At this point Red could probably tell you more useless trivia about Thunder than the black mech himself, save two things: whether that was his real name or (more likely, in Red's estimation) one he'd come up with for himself; and what he actually transformed into. Thunder had been forged in the Towers early enough in the war that the rich mechs could pretend there wasn't one, or that it wouldn't affect them, and the style at the time meant absolutely nothing to give away what your alt-mode might be, flaunting their being above the rules for normal mechs living under Functionism. Thunder was a product of his time and showed nothing – no wheels, no tank treads, no hints no matter how many times Red gave him a surreptitious once-over. He had to turn into <i>something</i>, with all that mass, but so far he'd never shown it. Just one more thing for Red to look forward to.</p><p>“Come on, though, you gotta admit I'm cuter than whoever the 'Cons are sending.”</p><p>“The Decepticons <i>leave me alone</i>.” Thunder glared – but he did swap out his now-empty cube for the one Red had gotten him, and inwardly the speedster cheered. “Unlike <i>you</i>.”</p><p>At least it sounded like the 'Cons hadn't figured out how much they might want Thunder on their side yet. Good. That was good. It was hard for Red to <i>not</i> feel a little possessive of the mech, which he acknowledged was weird and he was trying to work on not being weird, because eventually he'd succeed in his mission and there was no way someone like him would be kept around someone like Thunder. </p><p>The three little guys arguing under the table were new elements, too. Red peered back underneath, in time to see the green one try to eat one of the coasters while the other two cheered him on, and he quickly decided that was enough knowledge for today.</p><p>“Well, it was great to see you, Thunder,” Red said sincerely, knocking back the rest of his cube in one gulp and pushing himself up from the table in the same movement. He had other contacts here. Thunder was the big prize, but there were other neutrals he could talk to, as well. One bonus of following around someone who wanted nothing to do with the war was that he usually lead Red right into groups of others who thought they thought the same thing, right up until he had a few words and a few rounds of drinks with them.</p><p>“What, that's it?” Thunder snorted. “You're losing your touch.”</p><p>“Am I?” Red cocked his head to one side in calculated cuteness. “Maybe I should stay, then, just in case.” Thunder gripped his cube with both hands, staring intently at the table. Red couldn't remember ever seeing him this tense. This was something important. The speedster waited patiently, ignoring the cheers and whoops from somewhere near his feet, until Thunder said, quietly: “Maybe you should stay. You're just going to get yourself killed.”</p><p>Red blinked. Slowly, under Thunder's wary gaze, he sat back down.</p><p>Now <i>this</i> was new. Further investigation was required.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"ugh I can't think of a fancy transformers name for Judai I'll just go with the placeholder name I guess"<br/>"wait he's a batch mech it's actually genius" - excerpt from Fun Adventures In Writing circa this morning</p><p>trunglr: http://of-nyon.tumblr.com/</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>uh</p><p>here's more of this I guess</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sorry this isn't up to my usual standard,” Thunder said, keying in a code and stepping into his apartment. “Moving around so much, I don't get much of a chance to have my living space properly adjusted to what someone like me ought to have.”</p><p>He really didn't need to worry about appearances. Red was already impressed just by the door opening the whole way, not getting stuck halfway there and having to be pried open like the one in the quarters he'd been assigned before the Autobots decided he was more useful on the move. And the less said about the places he'd crashed since then, the better.</p><p>Red giggled and tried not to trip over the threshold. He was better with the cheap, nasty garbage someone with a recruit's salary could afford; Thunder's expensive stuff had gone right to his head. </p><p>He swayed a little and grabbed Thunder's arm for support. The big mech stiffened, causing Red to nearly stumble anyway as he kept trying to walk forward while dragging a mountain with him. This snapped Thunder out of it, and he bent down to catch Red by the arm, muttering, “Come on, is this an act or are you really this pathetic with engex?”</p><p>Their faces were so close. Red took a moment to stare, some slightly more alert part of him noting how Thunder's smooth facial features were creased in annoyance. Practically his default expression whenever they ran into each other.</p><p>“Y'get what y'pay for,” Red mumbled, breaking the spell and allowing himself to be steered onto a couch. Thunder had <i>furniture</i>. Other than a recharge slab. Wild.</p><p>“I suppose,” Thunder agreed. If there was one way to mollify him, it was to assure him that wealth equalled luxury equalled worth, and that he excelled in all three. Well, sooner or later everyone had to have character flaws. </p><p>“Whassat?” Red asked, settling himself on the couch, but Thunder was frowning. “Why y'lookin' at me funny?”</p><p>“I wouldn't really recommend sleeping there,” Thunder said, arms folded. “It's pretty much been their domain. I don't know <i>what</i> kind of gross stuff they've eaten and gotten on there.”</p><p>Oh. Oh! The little guys. It took Red a second to remember, they'd scampered off somewhere as soon as they'd come in.</p><p>“Are they even Cybertronian?” Red asked as Thunder ignored his own advice and gingerly sat down next to him (with a healthy distance of personal space, of course). Thunder sighed and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders and holding out his hands in an exaggerated what-do-I-know pose.</p><p>“They were being sold at a market and begging for help,” the black mech muttered, looking away. “No-one else was even looking at them.”</p><p>“Yikes.” Red took the risk to inch slightly closer. Thunder didn't seem to notice. “Good job you were there.”</p><p>“Right, and now I'm stuck with them. And now I'm stuck with <i>you.</i>”</p><p>“Hey, <i>you</i> fuh-filled me up with engex an' took me home,” Red insisted, leaning forward. Under the bright light of the apartment, Thunder was shinier than usual. “S'your fault.”</p><p>“Seems that way. Alright, get up, you're not sleeping here.”</p><p>“Whoa. Isn't that too forward?” The world spun a little as he let Thunder pull him up. </p><p>“Moron,” Thunder said, but it was less an insult and more a – fondness. Possibly the closest thing to a friendly nickname you could get out of him at this stage in their relationship. “I'm not sleeping with you when you're this out of it.”</p><p>Red <i>did</i> fall at that, sheer shock seizing his legs, but his arm was caught in an iron grasp before he hit the ground. </p><p>“Careful,” Thunder said, amused.</p><p>For once, Red was genuinely speechless. He wouldn't have thought a mech so stiff-backed would have had it in him for something like that. Turned out Thunder knew how to make <i>jokes</i>.</p><p>This was one of the best days of his life.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Deciding to fully commit to this-is-a-TF-fic with transplanted characters, hence all the in-universe Transformers jargon and lingo, hopefully it's all fairly self-explanatory. I've gathered it's mostly not TF people reading this so if there's anything you're confused about just let me know.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Red woke up with a splitting helmache right between his optics. He was sprawled out on an unfamiliar but plush berth, thermal blanket tangled in his legs. He groaned and struggled upright, kicking the blanket off and looking around blearily.</p><p>The walls were so white and pristine they were nearly threatening by themselves, at least for someone more accustomed to the muck and grit that places like this rose above. Gingerly, he trod one foot onto the floor, then another, and finally wobbled his way into a standing position. He started to stumble his way towards the door, but it opened before he managed a few steps. Thunder stood across from him, one perfectly sculpted optical ridge raised.</p><p>“You sure you can manage being up right now?”</p><p>“Sh-shaddup,” Red whined, deliberately scuffing his feet on the polished floor just to be an aft. “How, how d'you not get blinded, living in a place like this?”</p><p>“Come here.” Exasperation blooming in both his voice and EM field, Thunder closed the small gap between them and put one hand on Red's arm, leaving a tingling sensation where equally pristine white fingers curled around his dented, pock-marked armour. “I've got some med-grade, see if that helps,” he said, steering Red towards the main room.</p><p>Red made a face. “Noooo,” he whined, “that stuff always tastes like slag.”</p><p>“Then don't fill your tanks on high-grade you can't process properly,” Thunder chided. “You could at least have <i>told</i> me.”</p><p>“I c'n process it just fine!” Red protested. Seriously! It was just a helmache and a little balancing issue that would sort itself out once his gyros came back from whatever holiday the engex had taken them out on. </p><p>You would almost think Thunder cared, though, so Red didn't mind letting the big guy lead him about the place and (gently!) settle him down on the couch before going to another side-room.</p><p>Red hummed, sprawling himself over the couch. Nice. A mech could get used to this.</p><p>“Here.” Thunder returned in short order, pushing a standard-issue medical cube into his hands, doubtless full of the stuff that had the worst taste in the entire universe. Red groaned, but he popped the lid off under Thunder's silent glare, obligingly taking a sip.</p><p>Erugh. Yep, this was the stuff. Boy, he didn't miss this from the old days with the Autobots when he actually had access to medics, that was for sure.</p><p>But Thunder had crossed his arms and, Primus damn it, he was <i>cute</i> like this. All concerned while trying to pretend he wasn't. Red liked it. It was a good look on him.</p><p>Maybe Thunder just always looked good.</p><p>He knocked back the cube in one go – better to get it over with – then looked expectantly at his host, the “what now?” going unsaid but sparkling behind his optics.</p><p>“Hm.” Thunder leaned over, peering at him. Red looked down, but no, he didn't spill anything on himself. </p><p>“What?” He asked, stretching out just so he could claim more of the couch (and maybe show himself off, just a little). “Like somethin' you see?”</p><p>“Hardly.” Thunder snorted. “You look terrible. When was the last time you had a polish? A proper one, not just a swipe with a rag.”</p><p>Red couldn't help the laugh that escaped, tipping his head back over the couch. Of course. Of <i>course</i>.</p><p>“What?!” It was more a demand than a question, cutting through the air, but Red just grinned, looking back and glad he didn't miss the outraged expression. “What kind of answer is that, huh?!”</p><p>Same old Thunder, same old priorities.</p><p>“Well, if you've got some proper washracks here I could give it a go,” Red suggested, trying and failing to keep the smirk off his face. Damn it, Thunder, you made it too easy. “You can even help me, if you like.”</p><p>There went the cute-and-innocent act. But it was worth it; Thunder was <i>blushing</i>, faceplates heated into a lovely pink tinge. Red took a picture for posterity.</p><p>“Don't be stupid,” Thunder muttered, turning away abruptly. Aw, someone was shy. “Get yourself cleaned up. You're not going around next to me looking like <i>that</i>. There's a detailing shop in this district, <i>don't</i> argue, I'm taking you there.”</p><p>“Anything you say~” Red hummed, getting to his feet. Huh, he really did feel better after all. “Offer's still open, by the way.” He winked.</p><p>Thunder's groan of anguish coincided with Red's laugh.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>